Saturday, April 19, 2014

Talking About Ass

It quit raining but the sun has never come out and it's been gray and chilly all day long but no big deal. In a way it's nice to work out in the garden and not get so hot and sweaty I sort of want to die but in fact to merely warm up.
I finally pulled all the bolting greens and fed some of them to the goats next door. I have a terrible fear that I will feed those goats something as innocuous as bolted collard greens and then one of them will die and it will be all my fault. 
I have a rich fantasy life.

So okay, I went through my clothes today. As part of my rich fantasy life, I always think I'll get rid of things. But I don't. I just don't. All right, I did throw out a bunch of underwear I'm never going to wear again and a few shirts but this is how crazy I am- I have an entire bin of clothes I will never wear again in my life unless I get some dread disease in which case all I'll need is an old nightgown and not ten pairs of men's Levi's and some nice linen skirts. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Oh well. I have the room and if I keep all that shit it's not hurting anyone and there you go.

But things are more tidy and that feels good and I have the greens simmering and the angel biscuit dough is made and I've figured out how long I need to cook the ham tomorrow and I did four loads of laundry and cleaned out the old poopy hay in the hen house and the baby chicken shelter and put down fresh hay for their little feathery butts.
Speaking of butts, the other day Owen was talking about baboons. "You know," he said, "those things that have blue faces and red asses?"
I was a bit taken aback. I had never heard him use the word "ass" before.
However, I tried not to make a big deal of it and it's not a big deal. Ass is a perfectly acceptable word in my book.
"Yes," I said. "I do."
And that was that.

Mr. Moon went to a festival downtown today to meet up with Lily and Jason and the boys. He parked in a lot that had no signs posted concerning the illegality of parking there but his car got towed. Now if that had happened to me, I would have freaked out and just paid the fee to get my car back and probably cried and so forth. But not Mr. Moon. He actually got a police officer to walk around the lot with him to witness the fact that there were no signs posted and then to call the towing company to tell them that they had illegally towed that car. By the time it was all over, he had the car back and had paid no fee.
So good on him.
Do not fuck with Mr. Moon.

When he came back, we fed cut-up grapes to the baby chickens.

Of course that's Nicey eating from his hand. Catniss is the only other chick who will do that, the rest are too shy. I am almost certain that Catniss is a rooster and so what shall I call him? Suggestions? I was thinking of a character name from Game of Thrones but I'm not sure of that. And dammit, I am on the next-to-the-last CD of the first book and I'm already grieving.

Well, I better get off my butt or ass or whatever you want to call it ("buttocks" is a personal favorite) and go fold the last load of laundry and put it all away and then Mr. Moon and I are going to play cards and listen to Prairie Home Companion.

Saturday. A good one. And tomorrow I get to eat ham which is the ass or butt or buttocks of a pig.

The so-very-tasty ass or butt or buttocks.

I hope.

Love...Ms. Moon


  1. Angella- He really does. I swear.

  2. Good for Mr. Moon! I went to that same festival downtown and when it started drizzling, I ducked into the Knot House and ended up having a fabulous guided tour. It was wonderful! So many interesting old things to look at in there.

  3. Elizabeth- You got that right.

  4. Buttocks, said in the voice of Forrest Gump.

  5. I have several concert tshirts I never wear that I feel I should make a blanket out of. So many ideas, so little time.
    Call the Rooster Chico. Then you can say "Here comes Chico and the Hens." Or "Atilla." Or "Buttock." That would be funny.
    I have the comedic sensibilities of a twelve year old boy.

  6. LOL -- I wonder where Owen heard that?! So funny.

    I am impressed that Mr. Moon found a police officer who was willing to walk the lot with him. In my experience, most police officers would refuse to be bothered. Good for him.

  7. Not a terribly creative rooster name, but how about a "Roy" ( as in Orbison) to add to your rockin n' Rollin Elvis? Hugs to you
    Susan in Ca.

  8. LOL about Owen. Very descriptive. And good for Mr. Moon.


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